The Pep Talk

In almost 7 hours I will be 30.  My New Years Resolution was to not fret about this.  To think about it in a positive light.  To not concentrate on how I should've accomplished more by now, but by how now everyone will take me seriously because I'm not a "twentysomething."

It's hard.  But it will come, and time will pass.  I can't stop time from coming, and I will be another year older.  I've been sick for the past few days, and have no plans tomorrow because I have no friends in this town.  Sure, I might get a few posts on my stupid Facebook Wall, but that's all that is happening tomorrow.  Even my mom said "give me a call tomorrow if you feel better."

For some reason I keep thinking about how my 21st birthday didn't turn out the way I wanted it to either.  It was smack in the middle of spring break, and everyone went on vacation.  I had my then future husband and my family.  We went to my favorite prime rib joint, and then the future hubby and I went to the bar for a drink.  The bartender asked for my ID, and didn't even wish me a happy birthday.  We shared a big fishbowl drink that was sort of tasty, but way too big.  Then he just drove me home, and I went to bed.  No party, no big deal made.  It just passed, and I was disappointed.  There were no surprises.

Tomorrow will be the same.  I'll wake up, we might go out to lunch before the hubby goes to work.  And then I'll be alone.  I'll make dinner, and I'll watch a movie, and I'll go to bed.  No fuss made, no surprises.

I'm not fond of this friendless pattern.  But when I think of posionious friends I've had, I'd rather be here then dealing with issues they have on my birthday.  At least my birthday belongs to me.

It may look like I'm doing nothing, but I'm actively waiting for my problems to go away.

"I can't wait..." has become my new catchphrase.  I say it out loud, but I say it more to myself.  I'm becoming a little obsessed with Future Me.

During mealtimes, I say to myself "I can't wait until my stomach is small enough that I can't use it as a table."

Looking in the mirror after a shower, "I can't wait until my tummy is smaller than my boobs."

Putting on a low cut shirt, "I can't wait until I drop from a C cup to a B cup again.  I look like a fat hooker.  There is no chance of 'perky' with a C cup."

Looking into my closet: "I can't wait until I fit into....any of these, really."

I just realized I need fat clothes for my first day of work in April.  Maybe I'll get some money for that from family...for my 30th birthday.

Sigh.  Is it the future yet?